


The Opposite of Flat

by cmshaw



Series: Skeezy Road Trip Rays [4]
Category: due South
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2003-01-21
Updated: 2003-01-21
Packaged: 2017-10-21 12:31:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,081
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/225192
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cmshaw/pseuds/cmshaw
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Because it always fucking rains when you have a flat tire.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Opposite of Flat

**Author's Note:**

> * cmshaw bangs on her forehead  
> cmshaw: word  
> cmshaw: for that thing  
> darthfox: ?  
> darthfox: tire-iron?  
> cmshaw: yes! thank you  
> darthfox: glad i could help. :-)

Ray wiped his forehead, uselessly, with the back of his wrist. "Why the fuck is it always raining?" he said, leaning on the tire iron. The mud had already soaked though the knees of his trousers.

"Because it is. Because it always fucking rains when you have a flat tire. Look, let me do it," Kowalski said. He bumped into Ray's shoulder and Ray's hands slipped on the tire iron.

"Back the fuck off, okay? I'm working here," Ray snapped. He lunged downward and nearly fell flat when the last bolt suddenly loosened. His free hand skidded through the mud and he scraped his wrist on something, hopefully a rock. "Gimme the damn flashlight," he said.

Kowalski shone the flashlight over Ray's shoulder. "You okay?" he asked.

"On the _wheel_ ," Ray said. "I'm fine." He wiped his hands on his filthy shirt and tried again to brush the water off his face.

"Look, we're practically in the ditch even here," Kowalski said. "What was I supposed to do, flip the car ass over headlights trying to pull off the road?"

Ray was jacking the car off the ground with sharp angry movements, trying to put all of his frustration into helping his poor car. "What, there wasn't a lake near enough?"

Kowalski was silent for a moment. "Yeah, well, _you_ try driving around with Fraser in a burning car sometime."

"More light," Ray said, and he began unscrewing the loosened lug nuts, handing them to Kowalski one at a time. Finally he pried off the hubcap, set it aside, and ran his fingers anxiously along the rim of the wheel.

Kowalski practically breathed down his neck; Ray could feel rain dripping off of Kowalski onto his shoulders. "Is it okay?" Kowalski said.

Ray leaned back with a sigh, bumping into Kowalski. "It's okay," he said. "It's just the tire. You didn't kill the wheel."

Kowalski's arms were almost burning hot against Ray's skin. His rain-drenched shirt was no barrier at all. Kowalski pulled Ray snugly back against his chest and just said, "Good."

"We need to put the spare on," Ray said.

Kowalski dropped the flashlight on top of the spare tire. "What's your rush?" he said.

"Maybe you didn't notice, but it's raining buckets out here," Ray said.

"So what?" Kowalski shrugged, his chest shifting against Ray's back. "I'm already as wet as I'm going to get. How about you?"

Ray pushed his shoulders back against Kowalski as Kowalski's hand pressed hotly between his legs. "You're fucking crazy, Kowalski," he said softly as Kowalski began unbuckling his belt.

"Takes one to know one, Vecchio," Kowalski said, and put his hand into Ray's pants. The wet fabric at the waistband cut into Ray's sides as Kowalski moved his hand around, and Ray twisted his hips a little to get comfortable. Kowalski's mouth was warm against his ear, and Kowalski said low, "Look at you. You are crazy, aren't you?" His bare fingers closed around the head of Ray's cock, which was already full and aching. "Crazy to let me do this."

Ray closed his eyes and tipped his head back. "Shut up," he said blindly, and rain splashed across his mouth until Kowalski kissed him. Kowalski's hand tightened around his cock, fingers sliding up and down individually until Kowalski found his grip and then pulling, all at once. Ray groaned into Kowalski's mouth.

"Make me," Kowalski whispered back, and pushed his tongue into Ray's mouth as his hand stroked up and down.

Frantically, Ray grabbed at Kowalski's arm and jerked him faster. He was going to come like this, like some sex-stupid teenaged boy, and he couldn't even take a deep breath because his wet clothes were cutting into his skin and Kowalski's wet arm was holding him too tightly, and he thrust his hips up and came into Kowalski's hot grip. Kowalski's hand gentled, and he stroked up once, lightly, and Ray shook all over.

He was now drenched and muddy and sticky, too, but he felt as though the raindrops must be sizzling where they hit his skin. He released his breath with a sigh and sprawled bonelessly against Kowalski, who nuzzled the side of his neck with wet beard stubble as he slid his hand free. Ray turned his head and pressed his face against the side of Kowalski's neck. "God, we're getting filthy," he muttered.

"It's raining," Kowalski said against the top of his head. "We'll wash off, and there's clean clothes in the suitcases in the back."

Ray sighed reverently. "Dry clothes," he said happily.

Kowalski said, "Hey, should I be insulted here? You didn't sound like that when I had my hand down your trousers."

Ray pushed him down into the mud, rolling the two of them sideways until he was sitting on top of Kowalski. "If you're feeling insulted, here, we can put the spare on and get going," he said, and his knee nudged the heavy bulge behind Kowalski's zipper.

Kowalski's hands closed tightly around Ray's waist. "I didn't say that!" Kowalski tried to roll them back over, and Ray felt the hubcap sharp against his knee and pushed in the other direction. Over they went, splashing down on their sides into a huge puddle. Ray scrambled up, shaking himself off. Kowalski sat up in the middle of the puddle and laughed at him. "Wild man, aren't you?"

"You're the one who nearly kicked the lug nuts into the middle of the highway," Ray said.

Kowalski grabbed the hem of his teeshirt and dragged it over his head, arms flexing.

"Now what the hell are you doing?" Ray said.

Kowalski tossed his shirt down near where the hubcap sat gathering rainwater. "I'm getting out of these wet clothes," he said, and he pulled off his sneakers and threw them toward the hubcap as well.

"Are you crazy?" Ray said.

"Didn't we just--"

"Anyone could see you--"

"--establish that we're both fucking--"

"--naked!"

"--crazy!"

Ray glared down at Kowalski, rain dripping off the end of his nose, and Kowalski glared right back up at him, socks slowly turning brown with mud.

Kowalski held up his hand. "Are you giving me a hand here?" he asked, and Ray grabbed his muddy hand and hauled him up out of the puddle.

"Yes, I am," he said. "Are you taking your pants off or leaving them on?"

Kowalski tipped his head to the side and said, thoughtfully, "Off." Very, very carefully, he snapped his jeans open and lowered the zipper, then began wriggling out of the sopping wet denim. His bare skin was pale in the gloomy evening light, and as his hips rocked back and forth his cock worked its way into view above the waistband of his briefs.

Ray licked his lips, looked away, and began stripping off his own clothes, which were, he figured, too wet to be doing much good anyway. And he didn't _really_ think anyone was going to come by. When he looked back, Kowalski had his jeans worked down almost to his knees, and he was struggling with the socks. His cock bobbed, red and eager, out of a messy tangle of blond curls. Ray's trousers slid off comparatively easily, and he folded them forlornly over his soggy shoes. The wind gusted sideways for a moment and then stopped, leaving the rain pouring down in solid buckets.

"I can't see a damned thing," Kowalski said cheerfully.

Ray swallowed. "I'm right here," he said, and Kowalski tackled him to the ground.

"Shit!" Ray said, his bare back scraping not quite painfully across the dirt. "Careful!"

"Shut up," Kowalski said, and he held Ray's head still between his hands while he kissed him.

Ray pressed his hands flat against Kowalski's shoulderblades, pulling Kowalski down on him harder. "Make me," he said, when Kowalski's mouth let him go.

Kowalski grinned with a manic glint in his eyes. "Okay then," he said, and knelt up, coming down again on all fours with his stomach over Ray's head. He braced himself on one hand and guided the head of his cock toward Ray's lips with the other.

Ray pushed himself up and met him halfway, tongue to dick, and Kowalski tasted mostly like rainwater. Ray carefully rolled them again, lying on his side with Kowalski's cock in his mouth, and sucked like he was drowning. The rain pounded against his skin where he wasn't pressed against Kowalski's thighs, and the storm seemed to roar.

Roaring.

Getting louder.

Ray pulled away. "There's a car coming!" he yelled.

Kowalski grabbed his head. "I don't care!" he yelled back.

Ray tried to scramble up, but Kowalski was hanging onto him and he couldn't get any leverage in the dirt or grass. "Come on, come on," he yelled, and suddenly the ground gave way underneath them and they were skidding downhill. He was yelling and Kowalski was yelling and the storm was yelling and then Kowalski was lying on top of him in the mud while a huge truck, just barely visible over the edge of the ditch, thundered past them.

Kowalski, the fucker, was laughing.

"It's not funny!" Ray yelled.

"Yes it is!" Kowalski yelled back. He pushed Ray further down into the mud and humped the curve of his thigh. "Hell yeah!"

Helplessly, Ray began laughing. He was mired in a ditch from heels to butt to shoulders on one side and half-drowned in rain on the other side, and Kowalski just kept on laughing, howling with it, as he rubbed himself frantically on Ray.

"Come on, come on," Kowalski was yelling. "Fuck! Come on, Ray!"

Ray put one hand on the back of Kowalski's neck and rolled them again, pushing Kowalski down into the mud as he slid his other hand between their bodies and gave Kowalski a wet fist to thrust into.

"Fuck!" Kowalski yelled. "Yes! Yes!" And he was still laughing as he slammed his hips up and up and up again. The rain was pouring down to hard now that Ray could only tell Kowalski had come by the noises he made into Ray's ear. He could barely see Kowalski a few inches away, and he was sure Kowalski couldn't see his own nose. He staggered upright, doing his best not to slam his knees or elbows into anywhere painful on Kowalski's body but not sure he was succeeding. Kowalski leaned on him, still chuckling in fits, and yelled in his ear, "We should get into the car!"

"We can't!" Ray yelled back. "It's on the jack still!"

"What?" Kowalski yelled.

"Flat! Tire!" Ray yelled.

"Fuck!" Kowalski yelled.

"Yeah!" Ray yelled.

They half-walked, half-climbed out of the ditch and fell all the way down by the jacked-up wheel of the car. Their clothes lay on the ground, pounded flat by the rain, and Ray scrubbed himself clean with his poor shirt before wrapping it around his head and shoulders and kneeling down awkwardly on his wadded-up trousers. He handed Kowalski the flashlight and pulled the wheel with the flat tire off the car, dropping it on the ground and fumbling the spare into place as quickly as he could.

The lug nuts were still all there, which was a damn good thing because they never would have found them in this downpour. Shivering, he set them in place and began to tighten them. One bolt, two bolts, his hand slipped and he scraped the skin off of his knuckles. Too impatient to take the time to curse, he set the second nut back in place and tightened it grimly.

The last three nuts went on easily, Kowalski lying almost on top of him to shine the flashlight on the bottom one, and Ray lowered the jack again. Tighten one bolt, two bolts, three bolts, four bolts, five -- and thank God, they were done.

"It's always fucking raining," he said.

"What?" Kowalski yelled.

Ray gestured toward the car. In one sinuous motion, Kowalski yanked open the door, pushed the seat forward, and dove into the back seats. Ray followed him, turned around, and slammed the door closed behind him.

Abruptly, the roar of the storm cut off. Water sluiced down the sides of the car and away. Ray looked at Kowalski, and Kowalski looked back at him as they dripped onto the old blanket in the stillness and warmth of the car. "What'd you say?" Kowalski asked.

"I said it's always fucking raining," Ray said, and laughed, and slid against Kowalski for a kiss.


End file.
